


what are you doing

by tawnyPort



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tawnyPort/pseuds/tawnyPort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d quietly tended to his crush in other ways. He made sure his favorite table was always ready when he was supposed to come in. He made sure his drink was waiting by the time he paid. He made sure when they got something new in that he thought Man Bun might like that he got to try it, on the house. It was a struggle, not going at him head on, but it seemed like it was working. Earlier this month, Man Bun had stopped at the bar to thank him for letting him try the honey almond mocha. He also gave a small wave when he came in now. It was, Noya thought, the very best kind of progress, and the open mic was even better. </p><p>Man Bun was a musician.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what are you doing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yuu_chi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuu_chi/gifts).



> Happy Haikyuulidays, Yuu_chi! I hope you like this, it was such a fun prompt to write! Huge thanks to my beta for being so thorough even during the last minutes of the holiday season.

"Twenty-seven. At least." Noya hissed a little--the ceramic mugs were still really hot--then grabbed a dry towel and used that to start unloading the dishes.

"You must mean how many times you look at him in a half hour. I bet he's not more than twenty." Tanaka smirked and broke the corner off a stale triangle of chocolate cake. "He spends way too much time in here to be that old."

"Maybe he's a NEET or something. He looks like he could be." Without a second thought Noya hopped onto the counter to reach the top shelves, arranging the cups with the shop's logo facing forward. Behind him, Tanaka scoffed.

"You better get down before Daichi sees you. And he looks like a student. He's always got his computer in here with him."

"Maybe he just likes to read!"

"Noya's gonna get himself a well-read boy." Tanaka nodded, sweeping the rest of the old sweets into the trash.

"He's not a boy! He's a grown ass man! Look at the beard! Look how tall he is! Look at the man bun. They don't call it a boy bun." Noya turned and crouched, propping himself against the edge of the counter with one hand before dropping down.

"They don't call it a boy bun because that sounds stupid. Besides, it's scientifically proven that guys with man buns aren't gay. Especially not ones with beards." One last wipe and the food case was clean. Noya knew that Tanaka would consider that the end of his work for the night, so he shoved the empty dish rack at him.

"There is no science about that. You're a dick." Noya felt this was a succinct ending to the discussion as well as completely true.

"Can't be, you'd like me better then!" Tanaka grinned and shoved it right back, making Noya dig his heels in. He wasn't losing this. He was about to heave the thing at Tanaka's stomach when a voice carried from the back.

"You're both dicks. Also, he's twenty-two. He just signed up for open mic night and he had to put his birthdate in the email." Daichi peered around the corner with narrowed eyes. Noya let his arms go slack, forcing Tanaka to scramble to catch the dish rack. "You better not break that. Finish up. I want to go home."

* * *

It wasn't that Noya had trouble waiting for the open mic night. It was just that for some reason, the guy he'd gotten used to thinking of as Honey Almond Mocha or Man Bun--after three days of harassment, Daichi finally told him the guy's name was Azumane--hadn't come in again since Daichi let it slip that he'd be performing. Or at least that he'd signed up to. Daichi had to physically put his hand over Noya's face to keep him from peering over his shoulder every time he opened the store's email just in case there was more communication. Unfortunately for Noya, he didn't email again. 

Noya's days were filled with the cozy smells of maple and toffee syrup and the sweet, rich finishing notes of the coffee shop's special mild Christmas roast. While most people he knew who worked in retail or food service just wanted to hide and hibernate from Halloween to New Year's, Noya lived for the holiday season. He loved the constant sales incentive bonuses during that time of year. He loved pissing Tanaka off with his success at getting those bonuses. And he really loved seeing so many new faces in the shop and, of course, getting to show off for them.

None of that compared to showing off for an old favorite, though. While it was nice to be on the receiving end of a grin or laugh from Ukai-san (black tea in the morning, black coffee in the evenings he came in smelling like smoke) or Kiyoko-san (brew of the day in the morning with room for cream in her own sakura-painted tumbler), nothing came close to the small, twitchy smiles he'd started coaxing out of Man Bun. He always came in around lunchtime and lingered until the early evening, usually with a laptop but sometimes with a simple notebook, and nursed at most two sweet creamy concoctions in ceramic mugs until he finally gathered his things and left. 

Noya had started by making excuses to go out from behind the counter when he was there, but he never managed to steal a look at his laptop screen or get him to chat. As soon as Noya even got close, whether under the guise of cleaning up or more coming over directly to say hi, Man Bun's eyes widened and he would excuse himself, edging past Noya to the washroom and not coming out until Noya'd given up. At least temporarily. Giving up completely wasn't in Noya's toolkit. 

Instead he'd quietly tended to his crush in other ways. He made sure his favorite table was always ready when he was supposed to come in. He made sure his drink was waiting by the time he paid. He made sure when they got something new in that he thought Man Bun might like that he got to try it, on the house. It was a struggle, not going at him head on, but it seemed like it was working. Earlier this month, Man Bun had stopped at the bar to thank him for letting him try the honey almond mocha. He also gave a small wave when he came in now. It was, Noya thought, the very best kind of progress, and the open mic was even better. 

Man Bun was a _musician_. 

Noya's thoughts dissolved into daydreams about agile fingers or a low, crooning voice. Tanaka was quick to remind him that Man Bun might just get up there and beatbox horribly until he got booed offstage. Noya replied with a chop to Tanaka's shoulder, but the idea wouldn't go away. Obviously, the only answer was to be there to see his performance.

That's why he begged, promised, and finagled every way he could to make sure he was working then, even though Daichi had sworn he would never work another one. He'd only heckled the skinny blonde guy a little but apparently that was "unprofessional," and "impolite." Noya didn't think it was as impolite as letting that tone deaf little weasel on stage, but until this month whether he worked or not hadn't mattered. Now it was the most important thing in his life. Noya showed up right on time wearing his most flattering version of the dress code. He'd spent a little extra time making sure every detail, from his hair to his shoes, was perfect. There was only one thing missing. Between making drinks for everyone who came in from the cold, he kept an eye on the door, waiting for Azumane to appear.

When he finally did, it was (in Noya's humble opinion) like a scene from a movie. Snow swirled in from behind him and clung to his hair as he hunched through the door. He had a guitar case strapped to his back and his ears and nose were red from the cold. His huge brown eyes darted around anxiously until they landed on Noya. Noya grinned from his position behind the bar and tilted his head. Azumane's preferred table, a small round one near the door and far from the stage, was clear and bore a tiny sign saying, "Reserved."

Azumane blinked, then looked at Noya with new curiosity in his eyes. He pointed to himself: _Me?_ Heart skipping, Noya nodded and swept his hand toward the table. It was completely against the rules, but when he saw the appreciative look on Azumane's face, Noya cared even less than he had when he'd done it. He watched Azumane settle in, brushing the snow from his guitar case before setting it down, before bringing him a drink. 

"Thank you. Are--are you sure this is OK?" Azumane was tugging his mittens off when Noya got there--mittens, Noya thought, he's a grown man wearing mittens, why is that cute?--but he still didn't look quite comfortable in his seat. 

"Kind of late to worry about that, huh? It's your table now!" Noya set the mug down and nodded, turning to survey the rest of the cafe. Open mic nights were always popular, but the December one was one of the highlights of the year. The set list was limited to seasonal music, but you could never be sure if the next song would be "Christmas in Hollis," or a solo violin version of something by Handel. Either way, the shop was warm and bustling.

Noya picked the _Reserved_ sign up without turning around. Azumane seemed like someone who valued his privacy, so he figured looking away while he settled in would help him feel more at ease at his table. When Noya finally turned around, it seemed he was right. Azumane had tasted his drink; the whipped cream on his lip made that clear. Noya desperately hoped the shop's dim lighting would hide the sudden heat he felt on his face. 

"Something's different, isn't it?" Azumane was staring at him--there was no other way to characterize it. Noya was starting to think he _could_ see the blush, that maybe it was all right and he could start turning on the charm, when Azumane lifted his cup. "It's spicy. Did you add cinnamon?"

"Oh. Yeah!" If there was one thing Noya prided himself on, it was his ability think lightning-quick on his feet. "First real snow of the year means you need something a little warmer than usual. You like it?"

Azumane took another sip, licking the cream from his mouth this time. When the blood returned to Noya's brain he realized Azumane was nodding. "It's great. How… how do you come up with stuff like this?" It was the smallest possible beginning of a conversation. Noya forced himself to only smile a little, though there was no containing the way his shoulders dropped back and his chest puffed up.

"I like to experiment when there's downtime! I keep it all to myself, though. Anything we come up with while we work here becomes property of the company."

"Really? That doesn't seem fair."

Noya just shrugged. "We work for them, so I guess I understand it. You won't be able to get this at any other shop, though, so if you like it you better keep coming back here! At least until I have my own place."

Azumane's eyes widened and he shook his head. "Why would I go anywhere else? I like it here." He set his cup down and furrowed his brow a little. "Are you really trying to op--"

His question was cut off by the sound of applause as Daichi took to the small stage. Noya was glad for it. He didn't really have an answer. He'd never even given much thought to opening his own shop, or spoken about it until just now. 

He jerked his thumb toward the bar and gave Azumane an apologetic shrug. The answering smile he got was warm and understanding, as well as wider than any he'd seen yet. Noya went back to work feeling like he was floating.

The feeling faded over the course of the evening. The performers were of varying quality, but the biggest issue was that none of them were Azumane. Noya made the occasional drink, clapped politely after every performance, and cleaned up as people left. Meanwhile, Azumane sat at his table with his mug in his hands, not even moving to stand. He glanced away every time Noya looked over so he couldn't even mouth him a question. When Daichi announced the last performer of the night--Kiyoko-san, singing a rendition of O Holy Night that should have lifted his heart--Noya could only stare daggers at the side of Azumane's head. What happened? He'd brought a guitar and everything! 

As soon as Daichi said his thanks and good night, Noya yanked his apron off and shot out from behind the counter to intercept Azumane. He'd begun to put his mittens back on, a clear sign that he was trying to leave. No way was that happening yet! Noya stood next to his table, hands on his hips.

"What was that about?"

Azumane tried to look confused, but the weight of Noya's irritation broke him fairly easily. "I just changed my mind."

"When? You even brought your guitar all this way! You obviously meant to play it!"

"I don't actually live that far, it wasn't a big--"

"Hey!" The shop was quiet for a moment in reaction to Noya's shout. He lowered his voice when he saw Daichi looking over but didn't change his tack beyond that. "You were supposed to perform tonight and you didn't. What gives?"

After a moment of frowning right back at Noya, Azumane huffed out a sigh and looked down into his mug instead. "It's not as easy as it seems. I didn't expect there to be as many people and I didn't think…"

Noya tilted his head. "Didn't think what?"

Azumane looked like a kicked puppy. "I didn't think you'd be here, or that you'd be so… so cool."

"Ex _cuse_ me?!" Noya knew there was a compliment buried in what Azumane was trying to say but he was having a hard time getting to it.

"Wait, wait! That's not what I meant!" Even though Noya'd taken a step back at Azumane's words, he still shrank away like he was expecting a blow. What was with this guy? "It's just… You've got it so much figured out already. You're popular here, you're creative, you know what you want to do and I'm spending half my life in a coffee shop doing distance learning and what? Playing guitar?"

How did someone so big make himself look and sound so small? Noya wasn't sure what effect Azumane was trying to have, but he didn't care. For weeks he'd been putting in effort by centimeters and that just wasn't how he lived. If Azumane was really going to balk right now then Noya needed to know, because that'd mean all this tiptoeing and coaxing had been for nothing.

"Seriously? You're trying to tell me you're chickening out right now because of me when I'm right here _telling you to play_? Hell no." Noya used the toe of his shoe to pop one of the latches on Azumane's guitar case. "C'mon. Play."

"N-now? But the night's over…"

"The night's over when everybody's performed. Not everybody's performed yet. So hurry up, Azumane-san. People are waiting." Noya toed open another latch. From the corner of his eye, Noya could see Tanaka gaping at him from behind the bar. Daichi was probably going to kill him, too, but it would be worth it if this worked.

Please let it work. 

It felt like a standoff. Noya stared at Azumane, Azumane stared at the case. Finally, Noya sighed again, shaking his head, and started to turn away. Fine. Man Bun wanted the night to be done, the night was done.

He'd almost made it to the end of the bar when he heard the first chord.

"Maybe it's much too early in the game, oh, but I thought I'd ask you just the same. What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?"

The sensation of living in a movie scene came back in full force. Noya turned around slowly until he was facing Azumane again. As soon as he made eye contact, however, Azumane blanched and looked down at his guitar.

"Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight when it's exactly twelve o'clock that night, welcoming in the New Year, New Year's Eve. Maybe I'm crazy to suppose I'd ever be the one you chose out of the thousand invitations you'll receive…"

The tension slowly drained out of Noya's shoulders and hands. He hadn't even realized they'd balled themselves up. Noya could almost swear the same thing was happening to Azumane as he sang.

"Oh, but in case I stand one little chance, here comes the jackpot question in advance. What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?"

The final strum hung in the air. Without looking, Noya knew every eye in the room except Azumane's was on him, but he wasn't going to reply until he looked up, too. Noya started to grin when he finally saw the man bun beginning to lift as Azumane's head rose. He drew a deep breath, ready to tell him exactly what he thought of this silly sentiment and Azumane's fear, but the indignation faded when he saw Azumane's hopeful smile. The way he scratched at his cheek. The way his fingers fidgeted on the neck of the guitar. Noya was so done for.

Before he could speak, a heavy hand clapped him on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. "It's a good thing you asked! He's working."

" _DAICHI-SAN!_ Where is your spirit of romance!?"


End file.
